Currents
by xFiannax
Summary: Wn: Hardycest & gore in later chapters. The Hardy's, two brothers in need of a rest, take a needed leave from the WWE. How could it go wrong? A little pain the in stomach, that's nothing. But becoming a living light bulb? Sprouting wings? Not so much.
1. Too Much Charge

A/N: Hey, guys. Well, this is going to be a nonchalant story that I'm going to do just for fun. I love writing about and reading about the Hardy's, as well as a couple of the other characters I'm going to throw in later on. Right now, in this beginning chapter, it's not going to be as hardcore as it will later on. Blood, gore, incest, you know, the fun stuff. I know a lot of you with probably think I'm sick and twisted, but hey, I already admitted that to myself. If you don't like this genre, then don't read it and give me a nasty review about how disgusting a person I am. Trust me - I already know. Otherwise, have fun. Some things might not make sense now, but this is just a free for all with me, the Hardy Brothers, and the rest of the WWE.

Happy ficin'.

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**"No, Matt! No - stop it! I said stop - ack!"**

Jeff was cut off by his own insane laughter, howling wildly as his older brother leapt over his writhing form. His fingers were tickling any part of Jeff that they could reach. Violet streaks of hair fell over his face as he attempted to kick away the bulking figure tormenting him, squealing insanely and thrashing about in an attempt to get away. Every inch of him tensed up, his sensitive areas clenched but not safe from Matt, who was also laughing so hard it was getting difficult to keep upright.

"_**Say it!"**_

"**Never!"**

At Jeff's refusal Matt redoubled his fingers efforts, giggling almost girlishly and dropping down to one knee in an attempt to reach more of his brothers ticklish spots. Where the Hardy's were didn't help any, either. They were in a field of long crab grass, making it ten times more uncomfortable for the youngest Hardy boy, too. Jeff whimpered loudly, twisting his face into a look of severe comical rage. Matt laughed heartily, jerking his fingers in-between Jeff's armpit and sending the full-grown man into another fit of screeching howls.

**"O-okay, okay! It's starting to hurt!"** Jeff whined, swatting Matt's hand away.

It was true - they'd been through a lot in the last week. Jeff was covered in bruises just as much as Matt, if not more so for his dumb mistake in the Swanton Bomb. With all that was going on in the WWE, it wasn't really surprising, but the amount of high-risk maneuvers that they did was exponentially greater over all the other wrestlers. The Hardyz were crazy sons of a bitch, but were the fans complaining? Nope.

Matt took sympathy on Jeff and reduced his tickling, then suddenly propped himself up on Jeff's stomach. Jeff gasped under the weight of his brother, growling lowly and pushing the bulk a little farther down.

"**That was my pelvic bone, asshole."**

"_**You enjoyed it - you know you did."**_

"**I'm glad you just came out of the closet - get off."**

"_**Psh. You wish."**_

"**Get off, Matt!"**

Jeff tackled his brother suddenly, shoving his older brother to the ground. Matt's dirt brown eyes stared innocently up at Jeff, a giant grin on his face, who snarled and punched his brother's chest playfully. Jeff had begun ignoring the odd pang he felt when his brother looked at him like that. Every time his brother looked at him like that he felt…dirty. It intensified with each occurrence, but still he said nothing to his brother.

"_**Well, we're on vacation. I feel like spending it with my wacko brother. What about you?"**_

"**I've nothing better to do. How about we get together with some of the guys?"**

"_**Aw…can't it just be Hardy time?"**_

Jeff opened his mouth, but then quickly shut it. A faint smile spread across his finely etched lips, his head shaking back and forth. Matt had stood up beside him, his chocolate globes never leaving him. The younger Hardy couldn't keep from grinning more broadly as his brother reached down and grasped his arm - pulling him from the ground like he was nothing more than a feather. Seconds later, with a huge whoop from Jeff, Matt swept the younger brother off of his own two feet, swung him over like he was about to do poetry in motion, then tossed his brother up onto his own shoulders with little struggle.

"**You're nothing but a toddler, you know that?"**

"_**Yeah, I know."**_

"**Let's go see Dave, hm?"**

Matt didn't say anything in response, just steered towards the gravel road they'd come here from and approached the black SUV they'd rented out. Jeff sighed and leaned against his brother's head, observing the wildlife around them. The tree line was thick and coarse, completely dark beyond visible eyesight. However, the bright skies negated that darkness; the cloudless skies painted by the golden sunset and tinted the horizon a deep violet and burgundy palette. There had been no particular reason as to why Matt had brought him back here - they were just bored. It was well worth it, though.

Matt dropped the highflier off by the passenger door, ruffling his hair and receiving a rugged punch in the arm as he drifted away to the other side of the car. It was always nice to get away and hang like this - just the two of them. Jeff wasn't sure it was what other brothers did, but he didn't care. He'd had this odd possessiveness that he'd been unable to describe around Matt that the two of them shared. One time he'd hissed at a girl clinging to his brother in public. Luckily they were close enough that his brother didn't take that offensively. It didn't seem to be a harmful trait, so Jeff didn't bother stopping. Then again, when someone even so much as looked at Jeff wrong, Matt was always right there.

They both crawled into the dark vehicle and slammed the doors at the exact same time. The two of them glanced briefly at each other, and then buckled their seatbelts in unison. Their continued imitation forced them both into fits of laughter, Jeff mimicking his brother as he reached up to turn the keys.

"_**Stop it, Jeff!"**_

"**I can't help it, bro."** Jeff wheezed in between howls.

It took the two of them several minutes to stop laughing, which felt good to actually laugh and not pretend to do so. Most of the time their smiles to the crowds of fans were genuine, but after a while of being away from home it gets aggravating not doing it just because you feel like it. The time he'd been spending with his brother - regardless of how wrong he felt at times when it came to Matt - had severly lifted the spirits of the rainbow-haired warrior.

Jeff winced suddenly when his brother finally reached up to the keys and turned them away from himself. The engine roared to life, as did the flames in his gut. It was a sharp, instant pain that came in and left just as quickly. It resembled something close to the feeling you get when you're severly shocked - even hit by lightning. Either way, a gasp escaped him as he reached up with his hand and clutched his abdomen.

_**"Jeff? What's wrong?"**_ Matt questioned, pausing momentarily with a worried look in his soft, mud colored eyes. There was that possessiveness again. Jeff sighed heavily and shook his head, leaning back against the seat with a forced but convicing smile to his brother, **"No - no, I'm fine. It's nothing."**

Matt just took this as the norm, seeing as they both probably had internal injuries that they weren't aware of. If the Hardy boy's didn't have at least ONE bruise on them, there was something amiss in the world. Matt put his arm around the back of the younger Hardy's seat and tossed his head back, eyeing the flattened gravel path in the tall grass as he began to ease the steering wheel to the left and the nose of the car began turning right in unison. Jeff inwardly began to wonder what that pain had been as he shifted his arm over to the armrest of the passenger door - pressing the automatic window button and listening to the sound of the window creaking eeriely as it fell inside the door. The young Hardy leant his head out of the window and stuck his tongue out like a dog and laughing wildly as he did so.

Even so - he was worried. Whatever that had been, it hadn't been from his most recent efforts in his wrestling career. Being the man that he was, in the business that he was in, something even as trivial as a broken thumb could be a serious problem. Besides - that really fucking hurt!

_**"To the hotel, then?"**_

**"To the hotel."**

What felt like eternity was actually the passing of a fifteen minute drive across town. The name of the town escaped him - it was just a pitstop that the group made on their way to the arena where Monday Night Raw was aired. It was a nice, busy district that resembled a milder LA, with just as much crime. Jeff wasn't very aware of where they were going - he'd dozed off with his chin perched up on the window sil. At one point or another, in his light, dreamless slumber, Jeff awoke to when they'd stopped at Sheetz so that Matt could refill the tank. He quickly fell asleep for a second time to the pur of the car engine.

When he opened his eyes this time, the sky was dark and he was alone. The car had become silent, but the keys remained in the ignition - a sure sign Matt hadn't intended on being gone too long. There was no way Jeff could tell how long he'd been gone - he hadn't even heard the door shut when his brother had left. The little cat nap had felt nice, but waking up without his brother left him with an almost lonely feeling writhing in his gut. Even as hopeless as it seemed, when a yawn separated his lips as his jaw stretched open, Jeff emitted a soft whimper, **"...Matt?"**

The youngest Hardy crawled up from his fetal position on the car seat, pulling off the belt with a set of weary hands. A faint click signified the unlocking of the door as his fingers wandered over the armrest, his dirty jade eyes glazed over with the sands of sleep. Jeff almost fell head over heels when the door popped open, his hand unknowingly curling around the doorhandle and pulling it in. He stumbled almost in a drunken stupor, his normally sharp vision blurred momentarily. It took him a few moments to focus his eyes against the bright lights of the city, lifting them up slowly to the gigantic sign reading 'Sunny Side Hotel.'

What a name.

When Jeff's hand touched the surface of the car, nothing seemed amiss. His fingers pressed against the cool metal for a few seconds, then the muscles contracted and he began to push, egging the door into position. There was a distant click, followed by the loud boom of the door being completely shut. Still, nothing wrong, just silence. Even the sidewalks were abandoned. Add a dust bunny and it would have been absolutely perfect irony. Jeff ran his hand over the top of the car, feeling the smoothness under his skin as he turned, unknowing, towards the brightly lit hotel. A familiar second twinge shot up into his stomach, and then something akin to severe static electricity jolted from his hand - or was it the car? Jeff jerked his hand away and cradled his arm, furrowing his brow with an almost offended look at the car, as if to ask it 'What did you do that for?'

It didn't stop there. Jeff turned towards the empty street, leading to a distant intersection where a stray car zoomed out of sight. He quickly turned back towards the hotel, trying to get ahold of his bearings. The Enigma took a step forward, paused, then looked up at the giant parking lamp glowing overhead next to the parking space where Matt had presumably parked the SUV. When he stepped right beneath it, momentarily, the brightly glowing bulb began to flicker uncontrollably, as if it were about to die. Jeff cringed, raising an eyebrow,

**"Mythbusters much?"** He chimed to no one in particular, suddenly chilled to the bone. The Hardy hugged himself tightly, wrapping his arms around himself and taking another step forward, only to have the lamp overhead steady and return to normal. Jeff made a frustrated hiss, clicking his tongue and cursing Matt for not waking him when they'd arrived. Then, out of the blue like some weird annomaly off of that show House, Jeff's knees buckled underneath him and his body instantly crashed ontop of them. The highflier caught himself with his hands, however, quickly reaching down and clutching at his stomach, pressing his forehead into the cool cement. It felt like his insides were rearranging themselves, rebeling against his brain and thrashing in their acts of anarchy against each other. Every second he found himself writhing and shivvering at the same time, that same strenous feeling of being electrocuted returning ten fold.

**"Matt...Matt..."** Jeff cooed, taking deep, nerve raking breaths to try and steady himself out. What he didn't know - what he couldn't see, was what was actually happening to his body. The overhead lamp trembled in terror, shuddering violently for a few brief seconds before it could no longer contain the charge being trasmitted into its glass confines. Delicate glass shattered into a million tiny pieces, raining down on the youngest Hardy.

What the fuck?!

Somehow, somewhere, Jeff found the strength to lift his head and rise from two knees to one. Matt Hardy and David Bautista were standing in the revolving door of the hotel, their jaws almost touching the face of the earth. Jeff tried to put on a crooked smile, but for the first time in his life found he could not. He howled fervently and bashed his skull into the flats of his palms, feeling every muscle in his body spasm and contract uncontrollably. They didn't move towards him, and that only forced his heart to do a turn over in his chest. Each breath he took allowed him one syllable, his lungs pressing uncomfortably against his ribcage. **"Hel...p...me..."**

There was no way they could have heard him, though. The overriding sound that covered up all other surrounding noises was one consistent roar, and that roar was comming from Jeff Hardy.

Real, living clouds of lightning were licking off of the youngest Hardy. It was impossible to tell if they were comming at him or leaving him, but at this point, it didn't matter. They attacked everything that provided so much as a tiny amount of conductivity, lighting up the parking lot like one of those lightning storm globes. The only thought Jeff could get across his head, if you could even consider it a thought, was his steady nonstop scream. Sparks danced everywhere, his body glowing like an incandecant living candle, as if someone had planted an entire fireworks display in his body and lit it inside. If Johnny Storm was the Human Torch, then Jeff Hardy was the living lightbulb.

**"F-fuck..."** Jeff wheezed as he crawled to two unstable feet, the right side of his body sagging down as a stray bolt of lightning streaked from his torso to a firehydrant on the corner, blowing it out of existence. Blood began to ooze out of his nostrils, his eyes unfocused and glazed over in the same way they had been when he'd woken up a few seconds before. Matt's voice suddenly called out from the chaotic abyss.

_**"Jeff!"**_ It was obvious he was confused, and all three of them had looks as if they thought they were dreaming, but Matt wasn't about to let his brother turn into fried chicken. The oldest Hardy suddenly bolted towards Jeff, who stumbled back in fear of harming his brother, every inch of his body surging with electrical charge.

**"No, Matt! G-get awa...-!"**

There had been no time to contemplate how or why this was happening, he only just awoke to this. This defied all logic, and all states of comfort within his head. Whatever was going on within him, there was no way he'd be able to explain it later, and that was frightening. The next impact that hit his body felt, quite literally, like a buldozer colliding with him. This impact, however, was from the bulking Matt.

Their bodies hit, and just to add to the ungodly chaos and impossible acts against physics, the force was greater than either one of them had expected. They stumbled over each other, over the glass of the lamp, and slammed into the SUV with such a force that their bodies left permanent indents in its side just before it toppled over with a thunderous boom. Stray strands of lightning continued to slither from the crumpled mass, darting through the skies and hitting random conductors until the youngest Hardy completely lost conciousness. The street fell silent yet again, with no eye wittnesses other than the Animal standing stupified by the hotel. His dark brown eyes seemed to glow with excitement. He looked every which way to assure himself that no one was on their way to the scene just yet.

Batista had stood dumbfounded on the sidelines only momentarily until the lightning died down and the Hardy's remained motionless. His masculine body contracted and he hurtled towards the two brothers, his dirt colored eyes still filled with awe and wonder. The stillness that followed was deafening of itself, Batista's footsteps bouncing in an almost endless echo until he came to a stop next to the demolished vehicle and the two brothers who lie, miraculously, with little injury. He acted as if it were a regular occurence, which was odd enough, but then reach down, picked the two up like they were nothing more than cats, and slung them over his collosal shoulders.

A devious smile dominated the Animal's face as he walked away into the shadows of the alleyway next to the hotel, abducting the Hardy boy's after one of them practically blew up the entire block and the other had been caught in the fray. The youngest Hardy's powers must have increased the force of the blow, if only to explain the impact the two had had. Yet still you could say...what a nice day.


	2. Ecstatic

A/N: Like it so far? So do I. :3 It's fun to write. I'm not completely serious about it, though I am with everything that I write. I hope this isn't too clichéd, because I love my own originality. Enjoying yourself so far? REVIEW:E

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The skies were as black as the smoke now rising from the intersection outside of the hotel window. The two Hardy brothers lay unconscious on one of the two beds made up in the room, their bodies entangled oddly. David Bautista sat slumped in a squashy armchair off to the side of the window, his dirt colored eyes glowing violently as he observed the sleeping forms. A phone lay in his right hand, which was now sprawled over his lap and unable to lift the device to dial.

Ambulances and police sirens wailed outside, their unanswered questions tearing at his ears. How did it happen? Who was responsible? Was it terrorists? Or an anarchist? No one would ever find out – there were no eye witnesses. None that would talk, anyhow. However, the one question that would plague anyone's mind, naturally, would be something so simple that they could never guess it.

How?

Batista had stopped asking that question long ago. It was so long ago now that he could barely remember the exact date he'd just decided, 'You know what? Fuck it.'

Maybe since the day of his birth? Yeah, that sounded right.

The youngest Hardy grunted, turning awkwardly onto his side and burying his face into his brother's chest. Batista gave him a weird stare for a moment, his smile as broad as his face could make it. It was inevitable either way you looked at it. They were so weird, you had to think they'd do everything in the world that defined 'crazy', including…well, you know.

The animal looked down at last, to the phone that resided in his large, oversized hand. He clenched it momentarily, lifted it up, put it back down, then snarled inwardly and turned it over. His thick, coarse fingers stabbed the all too familiar number that he'd been dreading to dial. Batista lifted the receiver to his ear, listening to the repetitive rings, hoping that they could go on forever. After almost a whole minute, Batista swore and lowered the phone, moving to press the end button.

"…_**Hello?"**_

The voice was deep, thick, and very much annoyed. The very sound of it sent chills up his spine, regardless of if they were in character or not. Even now he could see the darkly tanned skin and scowling face, the overuse of mascara wearing his face into that permanent frown.

"**Taker?"** His voice was hopeful.

"_**Batista, how many times do I have to tell you, stop coming to me for your clean up jobs? I have my own work to do, without you running to me every time you go around and 'accidentally-',"**_ The dark, scowling voice continued to grow until it was just a notch below yelling, but just a little higher than normal speech. Batista scratched his head and laughed nervously, his voice full of obvious guilt. After a while he was forced to cut in.

"**Taker, I've got the brothers here."**

There was a silence, followed by a long, drawn out sigh. Batista laughed again, but did not hide his glee the second time around. They both knew what the situation was, but Mark Callaway obviously didn't want to accept it. The animal drew up his bulking frame, lifting himself with little difficulty from the chair, and stalked over to the bed where to two Hardy's slept silently.

"**The youngest one let out a charge like you wouldn't believe! He blew up the entire block beside the hotel! It was all like, 'pachew, pachew', you know? There was this fire hydrant that, like…Taker?" **

"…_**Batista."**_

"**Oh. Right, sorry."**

The animal chortled, scratching his head a second time and leaning over the oldest brother, Matt Hardy.

"_**What about the other?"**_

Batista was quiet for a moment. His hand wandered up to the oldest brother's forehead, testing its temperature with the back of his gigantic hand. It was searing hot. Taken aback, Batista drew in a sigh and moved around the bed to get a better look.

"**Well, I'm not sure if there's anything special about him. He ran after his brother when it got to the worst part, and when they hit it was like with the force of a train. He's got a pretty bad fever right now, though…" **Batista chirped, pushing back the Hardy's long, dark curls to get a better look at his face. It was peaceful, though deepened with his oncoming age. A smile crossed his face briefly before he shuffled over to the other side of the bed, trying to compensate for his size.

"…_**We'll have to risk it. Take the two of them to Glen. I'll meet you in the morning."**_

"**Right." **

They didn't even bother to say goodbye, they both hung up at the same time. Batista nonchalantly tossed the receiver across the room where it landed safely on the seat he'd been occupying previously. He shuffled over to Jeff's side of the mattress, checking his forehead the same way he'd done with his brother. It was cold. Frighteningly cold.

"**Odd…"** Batista muttered, looking over the rainbow-haired warrior one last time. A heavy sigh escaped him, his large right hand moving up to comb through what little hair he had on the top of his head. Shaking his head, the animal marched over to the window, his back turned. His eyes shifted over the scene unfolding below on the street, marking the memory as a specific marker in his head. There were men everywhere, but that didn't worry him. He could get through without being seen. It was the noise he was about to make that he was worried about…

Batista shuddered at the nonexistent breeze. His shoulders tensed, tightening and preparing for their future strain. It was familiar to what he did in the WWE, right before a huge Batista bomb. That was always fun, but this was much, much more enjoyable. After the first time, of course. The first time was always scary. He shifted, moving one foot forward and one foot back. His knees eased him down, slowly, so that he was down on one and up on the other, almost as if he were about to propose to the window. A grin filtered its way through his emotions.

Dangerous globes turned back, looking at the door to the room. A thin strip of yellow light seeped in through the bottom of the door, signifying the existence of the hallway. If he could have crossed his fingers, he would have. But it was too late now.

If it was even possible, his shoulders broadened. His spine lurched up through his body; through flesh and tissue, muscle and organs. Pores shrunk to compensate for the expanding roots. Even his ears began to twitch oddly. Normally sweat-covered, godly skin became rough and uneven, the roots sprouting large patches of dark fur over his convulsing countenance. His organs began to writhe and twist inside of him, his heart thrumming against his ribs at some oddly inhuman speed.

In one swift, smooth movement, Batista stood, arching his back and twisting around. An ear to ear grin spread as wide as his face would allow, filtering through his emotions as his spine began to crack and extend to his body's sudden change, followed by a look of twisted agony. Then he lurched to the ground for a second time, howling in his traditional animalistic battle cry, beating the floor with his titan sized fists. Glowing globes that had once been a dark dirt brown color hue warped to an almost golden shade, flashing ferociously as a banging emitted from the door behind him. His hyena-like cackles drown out the sounds of their cries as his face began to contort to the shape of the bone of his skull, which had now begun to extend outwards. The final touch, he called it.

His face pressed outwards, his nose flattened by some unknown and intangible force. Batista's ears flattened and fell to a point, thrashing wildly in unison with his cries. What little clothing he had on began to rip and tear, hugging uncomfortably against his ever growing form. The animal snapped his jaw, which actually made a loud crunching noise, amusing him momentarily in the back of his head. There was a continued repetitive banging on the door, more frantic and abrupt. A law enforcer, even.

Batista howled over and over, urging his body into the final stages of its transformation. His knees finally buckled completely, leaving him convulsing on the ground, curled into an upright fetal position. The muscles split and the skin released horrid suction noises. The animal let out that one, final gasp. Silence followed momentarily before he picked up his oozing form from the floor. What came from the floor was not David Batista, but an animal of unearthly proportions. A mirror reflected his impressive appearance.

Large, broad shoulders supported a bulking, black, fur coated frame. A thick, wolfish snout darted back and forth as the nostrils flared and expanded, taking in the scents that his normal nose couldn't normally detect. Golden eyes seared through the darkness and lit up the room, leaving an eerie glow on his newly grown tail where his spine had jutted through his rear. His legs were packed with even more muscles, bent over so that his body was forced to compensate by hunching over. The clothes he had been wearing previously lay crumpled on the floor aside from his jeans, which remained tightly stuck to his lower body. Even now he looked like some kind of god, proudly standing with a sneer on his wolfish jowls.

David Bautista was a werewolf. What irony.

His still human-like anatomy allowed him for irregular grace and movement, as well as flexibility and speed. The door was now being aggressively rammed by some odd number of people without access to the room. Batista's eyes never left the door as he marched over to the still sleeping brothers, tossing them into the air like they weighed less than paper, then caught them and pulled them in, every muscle rippling with such a godly grace that anyone would be awed by the sight of it. His legs dipped down under the unexpected strain of the Hardy's, however still remaining stable enough to march him over to the open window. The sky was covered with black clouds, but even if they weren't there, there was no moon to explain his transformation.

He looked back, golden eyes wide in wolfish fear, a foot jutting from the fresh wound in the cracked wood. Then, without loosing that strangely doggish grin, Batista leapt onto the seal of the window. The door exploded open, the wood splintering across the room, just as his bulking black frame vanished into the darkness, yet again abducting two of the most famous brothers on the planet.


End file.
